


Beneath the House on Hill Top Road, and what Jon found there

by Merefish, TritoneHorror



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 00:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20380612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merefish/pseuds/Merefish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TritoneHorror/pseuds/TritoneHorror
Summary: A thought occurs to him. A statement by Anya Villette. She had found herself in a life where the things she once knew didn't exist. Where she didn't exist. A world where things were wrong. Where had he ended up?





	1. A Decent

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to Mere for helping me build this strange little fic's world and allowing me to essentially write this fic in our DMs!
> 
> Enjoy!

Jon has to investigate the basement. It doesn't matter how he ends up in the house on Hill Top road despite Annabelle Cane's warning (order) but he has. He's recording, of course he is, he doesn't have much of a choice. Being here is recklessly dangerous and the whirl of the tape is...not comforting exactly but familiar. He's prepared for the worst so he's left messages behind for everyone at the institute. Including a message for Martin. Even if Martin isn't there anymore (he is but he isn't), he had to leave something. It might be dour and pessimistic to leave behind his farewells but this isn't like the coffin. The coffin was a definite place. This. This is a mystery. He has no idea what will happen. But he has to know. 

So he goes. 

He goes and it's easier than he expects to find the basement now that he's looking for it, a door under the stairs that one would assume to be a closet. The door resists as he pushes it open. He could not only hear but feel the friction of several spider webs pulling taunt and snapping he does. He tried not to think about spiders and doorways (he failed). Standing at the top of the descending stairs he hesitates. He's scared. The cellar is dark and unsettlingly warm. It's not just that. The air feels wrong. A different fear is holding Jon in place.

The Archivist is scared.

But Jon takes a step down into the darkness of the basement. And then he falls.

Falling down a flight of stairs certainly isn't the worst thing to happen to Jon, but that doesn't make it any less painful. Face planting into concrete is not a delightful experience and he comes back to himself slowly. He doesn't open his eyes, and he can feel blood dripping down his forehead. The floor is cooler than he expects it to be, and he welcomes the soothing balm as his senses return to him.

Something is wrong. He is not in the basement.

There's light. Bright fluorescents. And the dull hum of an AC unit. Also voices. It reminds Jon of his days on the upper floors of the institute as a researcher. 

"Jon? Was that you?"

Jon stills. That voice. He  _ knew _ that voice and yet it felt so wrong to hear it now. It made his chest ache. How did he know that voice?

"That sounded pretty bad. Are you alri -" The voice rounds a corner and stops. Jon hears the person turn to call back towards the direction they came from.

"Hey! Jon's hurt!"

Wait. This can't be right. The genuine concern catches Jon off guard. He almost misses the sound of hurried footsteps. But there was no way he could miss the voice that called out to him next.

" _ Jon _ ?"

"Martin?"

Jon's head hurts. Not just the intense throbbing from the injury but from trying to make sense of the situation. Confusion clouds his mind and suddenly he's blinking back tears. 

"Oh Jon, what happened?"

There are hands on his face and hands pulling him upwards and his body is screaming in protest but he doesn't have the power to do anything but allow himself to be propped up as he's leaned into Martin's solid form. There are gentle fingers wiping the tears from his eyes. Suddenly his vision focuses and Jon  _ sees _ .

Martin. Looking at him with such tender openness, his brow furrowed in worry. 

"Jon, are you okay?"

Is he? He is more okay than he's been in a while but nothing is making sense. What is going on? 

"Martin? I don't..." His voice is weak. "Where are we? What..."

Jon regrets the words as he watches more worry and sadness creep into Martin eyes. Martin focuses his gaze on his forehead and gently probs at the welt.

"Must be a pretty nasty bump." The voice from before returns and a woman steps into view. She kneels down on the floor and hands Martin a wet rag and an ice pack. 

"Thank you, Sasha."

Sasha...Jon doesn't recognize the woman in front of him but he recognizes the voice. A voice he had once forgotten. A voice he had listened to on old tape recordings desperately trying to recall the face of its owner.

"Sasha?"

Jon doesn't notice as more tears flow down his face. He takes in the real Sasha. Who is studying him with concern and turns to Martin.

"Should we call an ambulance? He doesn't look too good. He's not handling this well either."

She then turns to Jon. "Hey, do you remember where you are?"

_ I was in the basement of the house on Hill Top Road. _ A thought occurs to him. A statement by Anya Villette. She had found herself in a life where the things she once knew didn't exist. Where  _ she _ didn't exist. A world where things were wrong. Where had he ended up?

"No," Jon whispers. "I don't."


	2. The Right in the Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes...fic writers write things to cope with canon.

Where Jon had ended up turned out to be the Magnus Institute but one completely unfamiliar to him. This version of the institute did not carry the feeling of being watched. The hazy atmosphere that Jon had attributed to the presence of Peter Lukas was also missing. Hallways that used to carry cobwebs and a sense of unease instead were pristine and almost welcoming. This contrasting difference of course only made Jon more on edge. 

They were calling it a concussion, or rather they were treating it like one. Which was fair, given his symptoms he probably did have one despite the certainty that amnesia didn't quite cover what he was facing. Martin and Sasha helped him get to the lobby by the main entrance since his legs were too unsteady to walk on his own. Jon caught himself staring at Sasha more than once, trying to commit every detail to memory so he wouldn't forget her again. 

An ambulance arrived (which was probably unnecessary but Martin and Sasha insisted) and the events of the evening begin to blur. Jon is usually a terribly stubborn patient to deal with but this time he was distant as the paramedics busied themselves with his wellbeing. The details of the hospital visit were hazey thanks to his anxious state of mind and the addition of heavy duty pain killers. Jon could recall one detail with perfect clarity; Martin remained by his side through the entire ordeal, unashamed to use the "worried partner" card in their favor (which brought up another topic he'd have to come back to). Once the doctors were sure there was no internal damage to worry about they were given the all clear to go home. 

Jon must have fallen asleep on the trip back because he woke in a bed far nicer than he expected a hospital cot to be. Martin was pulling up a chair to sit a close distance beside him. He noticed Jon stir as he sat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Its fine," Jon croaked, his tongue heavy with sleep. 

Now that he was in a more coherent state of mind Jon took a minute to look himself over

He studied his hands. Both unmarked, unblemished, _ unburned. _ No collection of scars marred his skin. He also had no doubt that all of his ribs were still intact. He should be relieved, he should be grateful. Instead he is weary and confused. He knows this isn't possible - shouldn't be possible. But he also knows better than to underestimate the actuality of the impossible. He had died once. He was ( _ had?) _ transformed into a monster. Now, the hands of time hand rewound. Now, he found himself in a different world. 

His eyes landed, not for the first time, on the metal band that sat snug on his ring finger. It was by no means flashy, nor its design bold. Just a plain silver band with a small emerald laid flat into the metal. He ran his thumb around the ring's smooth surface and felt a warmth rise up from his heart. Martin was wearing a matching ring almost identical, the only difference were the sizes. Jon had smaller thinner fingers than Martin and each ring was proportionate to the wearer. 

Martin reached out and placed his hand on Jon's. Jon couldn't hold back the question.

"Are we married?" It came out as a weak whisper. As if he was voicing a secret rather than a question.

"No, not yet. Just engaged." Martin answered easily. A small smile on his face. Jon felt guilty; he knew nothing about this life he found himself in. He had taken away this Martin's Jon. He couldn't share in that happiness. Couldn't connect with the memories.

"I'm sorry." 

Martin let out a soft chuckle. "What for?" It was asked lightly.

Jon forced himself to meet those kind eyes staring at him. 

"I don't… I _ know _ you, Martin but I just can't… I don't…" he gripped the hand that had rested atop of his tight as he spoke. "I have no memory of this. Of us."

Martin was quiet for a moment before speaking next.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asked calmly.

Jon was taken aback by the question and responded immediately.

"What?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable? Right now? We can get someone else to stay with you."

Jon was caught off guard but considered his answer honestly. "No…No, I'm glad you're here. You do _ not _ make me uncomfortable - the opposite really."

Martin smiled and Jon's heart did flips. He had missed that smile. He had missed seeing the way his face lit up with such open and honest emotion. He didn't know he missed it, hadn't acknowledged he missed it, until seeing it again. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Jon."

_ Don't I? _

Jon bit back the rebuttal and let himself believe Martin's words. Perhaps it was selfish but for this moment he surrendered himself to the impossibility of his situation. 

"I have no memory of our relationship, how we came to be, or our engagement… but I'm happy to be with you." Jon furrowed his brow. "This is incredibly confusing, I doubt I'm making much sense."

Martin laughed, softly but Jon shot him a look. "I just find it very heartwarming that even without your memory you still love me."

Jon face flushes. He wishes he could explain the whole truth. Perhaps he should explain everything to Martin but not now. He settles on a part of it.

"...I do love you, Martin."

Martin lifts his hand and caresses Jon's cheek. Jon blinks tears and a gentle thumb brushes them away. Martin gets up from the chair and sits on the bed turned towards Jon.

"Come here."

Jon willingly falls into Martin's arms and tries to ignore the longing ache in his chest. 

None of this could be real. It just couldn't. Everything was _ too good _. Too perfect. Whatever or wherever Jon had found himself in seemed completely untouched by the powers of fear he had grown accustomed to. Perhaps that was it, perhaps he was still trapped in a web and this was all an elaborate lie. But no, that didn't feel right either. He didn't know. ...that was another thing.

Jon didn't _ know _.

Unbidden knowledge no longer seeped into his mind. Jon still yearned to understand but there was no deep underlying hunger. No insatiable curiosity. For the first time in years Jon felt...somewhat human. Choosing not to focus on that train of thought Jon chose instead to focus on getting up and out of bed. He had awoken recently to find Martin gone but the scent of freshly cooked breakfast calmed his nerves. Jon finds he really doesn't want to be alone at the moment. 

He gets out of bed and steadies himself before approaching the bedroom door. Jon takes a second to listen and he can hear Martin moving around, humming under his breath. A relief washes through Jon but his fingers hesitate on the door knob. Is he just going to pretend everything was fine? Is he going to step into this role of his alternate self? Play along and shape himself to fit? They deserved the truth, _ Martin _deserved the truth. But would they believe him? He opens the door and steps out. He finds Martin in the kitchen, plating an omelet. He spots Jon and smiles.

"Good morning." He motions Jon towards the table. "How's your head?"

"Morning and fine." Jon shuffles over to the chair he was directed to and sits. Martin places the food in front of him and, after muttering a thanks, Jon idly starts picking at it. His eyes are drawn to the other side of the table beside him. 

Curiosity getting the best of him, he points out the small pile with his fork. "What's all this?"

Sat across from him, Martin pauses with a fork mid bite. He follows Jon's gaze before returning to his meal.

"Oh, those are just 'get well soon' gifts from everyone." 

Perplexed, Jon abandons his half eaten breakfast and leans over to investigate. There are several cards, a small stuffed bear, a bouquet of flowers, and what appears to be a boxed homemade cake. He reaches for the stuffed bear first. It has a bandage wrapped around its head and is holding a card that reads "Get well Bear-y soon". He must have made a face because Martin laughs at him. 

"Tim got that for you. He seemed quite pleased with it too."

An ache makes itself known in Jon's chest. Suddenly, the bear seems so much heavier in his hands. He gently places it down.

"These...these are for me?" Jon pointedly avoids looking at Martin or the gifts, instead focusing his gaze at the table.

"Of _ course _ they're for you."

Jon swallows the lump in his throat and grabs the cards to examine. The first is a generic get well card but Jon's surprised to find it full of signatures of names he recognizes from the institute. Tim wrote "I hope the pain isn't un_bear_able" next to his name and Sasha added a heart next to her's. He even spots Elias's signature. He drops the card after that. The second card has "Congratulations!" printed on the front but the words "you survived!" have been added in pen underneath. Inside is a get well message from Georgie and a signature pawprint from The Admiral. It also looks like Melanie's name was scrawled at the bottom at the last minute. He looks to the flowers. The arrangement isn't exactly 'lively' and he wonders if perhaps it was in fact a "condolences" gift. Jon plucks the tiny note card from the bunch. "From your friends at Leitner Publishing" is all it reads. 

"Jon,"

Martin's soft voice breaks him out of his trace and Jon looks up. His vision is blurred and he realizes belatedly that there are tears in his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jon can't place the look on Martin's face. Before he can answer Martin speaks again.

"And can you answer me honestly?"

Apprehension twists in Jon's gut but he nods.

"What was the last thing you remember? Before yesterday - before you hit your head?"

_ Ahh, so this is it. _ Jon gives in to the inevitability.

"You won't believe me." 

"Try me."

"I...I was in the basement of a house on Hill Top Road."

After a few short silent seconds Martin nods, a soft smile on his lips - which is...not what Jon was expecting.

"You're not from this universe are you, Jon?"

Neither is that the response he was prepared for. 

Caught off guard, Jon fumbles for his words. He opens and closes his mouth several times before Martin speaks again.

"You don't have to lie, Jon. I'll believe you."

Jon shakes his head and speaks softly. "No. Things are...things are different here than what I'm used to."

"I would like to hear about it..." Martin stands up and walks around the table, offering a hand to help Jon up. "But not here. It'll probably be easier for you to explain it all to everyone at once."

Jon's mind is still floundering as he takes Martin's hand. 

"...How?" Is all he manages. _ How did you know? _

Martin gives him that fond smile of his that is more in his eyes than his lips. 

"Because, you've been investigating Hill Top road for months now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you for checking this out. You're awesome and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!  
You can find me on tumblr @TritoneHorror  
And Mere at @withholdingfrombeholding

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I have a majority of this fic planned but chapter count is not set in stone as of yet!


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